Auction fic: Doctor Faustus Dances 1/2?
Story: Doctor Faustus Dances
Author: wmr / wendymr
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Jack Harkness, Captain John Hart (cameo)
Rated: PG
Summary: Is there anything you wouldn't give for the one thing you want more than anything else in the universe?
Written for kholly, who bid on a fixed-price fic from me in the September Support Stacie Auction. It's turned out to be a little longer than the promised fic, but I hope she won't mind that! With very many thanks to yamx for BRing.
Doctor Faustus Dances
Chapter 1: Dos-à-Dos
The man currently calling himself Jack Harkness blinks out of sight, and in the shadow of the fence another man checks his Vortex manipulator. As he guessed, Harkness returning to his ship like the coward he is.
And, as the Agency suspected, yet another hoax. Just as well he followed the ‘watch and see’ protocol.
About to disappear himself - why stick around and get blown up by a primitive bomb centuries before he was even born? - the Time Agent hesitates, his attention caught by the man in black, the one who exposed Harkness’s idiocy. Who is he? What is he?
A quick scan using the computer attached to his Vortex manipulator leaves Captain John Hart completely dumbfounded.
It can’t be. A glitch in the scanner, or some sort of body-mod. It’s just not possible that this means what it seems to imply. So the man - or whatever he is - has two hearts. It means nothing, right?
But Hart stays, watching the man in black, not taking his eyes off him even when Harkness comes back, riding the bomb like he’s some sort of cowboy hero. Harkness will turn up again, like the bad penny he is, with some other con or game to get what he wants.
Instead, Hart watches, and later, he follows the man and his little blonde companion away from the newly-healed crowds and down the dark cobbled streets, until the two of them stop in front of a blue police-box.
Seconds after they go inside, there’s a roaring sound, the box starts to fade, and then it disappears. Nothing’s left except...
Traces of artron energy. And huon energy - something that’s not even supposed to exist.
Shit. The guy really is a Time Lord. Alive, and in the flesh.
And won’t the Time Agency be interested in that?
***
“Last one out does the washing-up tonight!” Rose calls as she runs towards the door. Jack follows behind at his own pace. The threat of washing up doesn’t faze him in the slightest; after all, it’s hardly as if he’ll be here later to get stuck with it.
The Doctor elbows him aside, edging through the door ahead of him. “Dishes are all yours, slowcoach.”
Jack blinks. The Doctor’s assuming he’ll still be here? After the lecture he got last night, once Rose had gone to bed, that’s the last thing he would’ve assumed. The Doctor - whoever or whatever he is; he didn’t grant Jack the courtesy of an explanation - ripped into him, up one side and down the other, about the dangers of interfering with history, messing with technology he doesn’t understand and almost wiping out the human race. As if he wasn’t already well aware of how badly he’d screwed up.
Though the Doctor’s final comment, just before he sent Jack off to bed, might have revealed more than his host intended. And you can stop your idiot flirting, especially around Rose. She’s not interested.
Right. Rose seemed more than interested when he was dancing with her on top of his ship yesterday - and again when he was listening to the two of them over om-com. And that, he’d guess, is the Doctor’s real problem - and the reason he didn’t expect to be staying on board this amazing, unbelievable ship that’s like something out of a fairy-tale. Bigger on the inside - now, that’s technology he didn’t think any race had mastered.
So it looks like he’s invited to stick around for a bit. Considering his other options have pretty much been reduced to hitchhiking, sleeping rough or conning his way to a berth on another ship while still trying to stay one step ahead of the Agency until he’s found something else they’d consider valuable, it’s not an offer he’s going to refuse. Plus his bed is comfortable, and his shipmates are pretty easy on the eye. Not a bad deal, all in all.
Outside, he shields his eyes against the bright orange sun and scans the landscape. It’s desert-like, with tall, thin brown trees dotting the horizon. Not a planet he’s familiar with, so it’s not Earth or anywhere in the Solar System. Probably not even in the same galaxy, at a guess, which tells him that the Doctor’s ship is fast.
“Well, come on then!” the Doctor exclaims, striding forward. “Can’t hang around here all day. Brand-new planet to explore!”
Rose, grinning excitedly, slides her hand into the Doctor’s as if it’s something she does all the time. No doubt it is. “Where are we, anyway? Normally you can’t wait to tell me.”
The Doctor glances back, and Jack feels those unsettling blue-grey eyes on him again. “Thought we’d see if Captain Jack wants to do the honours this time.”
Ah, now he sees the Doctor’s game. Expose the new guy’s ignorance and establish himself firmly as the alpha male. But it’s not gonna work. Jack might be prone to the odd piece of bad judgement - like that Chula ambulance - but he’s not completely stupid. The Doctor’s still a huge unknown quantity, but what is clear is that he’s some kind of genius.
So he smiles, giving a careless shrug. “Nope, haven’t got a clue. Looks like you’re the official tour guide, Doctor.”
The Doctor looks smugly pleased with himself. “Small planet in the Omega cluster. ‘S called Mirage.”
“Strange name for a planet,” Rose comments, swinging the Doctor’s hand as they walk together out into the desert - without, Jack notices, any sign of supplies of water, or any warning from the Doctor to Rose to use sunblock. He’s fine; by his century, scientists have developed a cellular force-field available over the counter to anyone but, if he remembers his history of human development correctly, in Rose’s century people could still suffer pretty badly from prolonged exposure to a sun.
“You’ll see,” is all the Doctor says in return to Rose, as Jack falls into step behind the two of them. The man bends his head and speaks quietly to her. Jack can’t hear a word, but he just shrugs. They’re perfectly entitled to exclude him from their conversation if they want.
By the time they’ve walked for about fifteen minutes, Jack’s starting to get concerned. Oh, he’s fine himself; he’s done introductory endurance training that makes this look like a walk in the park, but his assessment of Rose so far is that she’s a civilian who’s never had any kind of military training. While she might be used to accompanying the Doctor all over the place, she’s just an ordinary human who’s likely to get sunstroke if they’re out much longer.
Though, strangely, she seems perfectly fine, showing no signs of thirst or heat exhaustion. Weird.
The Doctor glances back abruptly. “Take my hand.” His spare hand is suddenly thrust back. Jack blinks, but takes it.
Instantly, the desert disappears. They’re in a town, buildings and vehicles and people - humanoid, but with subtle differences, such as the shape of their necks and a lack of eyebrows - all around. “What-?” he manages to choke out.
The Doctor grins. “ ‘S why it’s called Mirage. We were only in the desert for about five minutes.”
“Why couldn’t I see it, then?” he asks, frowning, his gaze taking in Rose as well. She’s grinning, obviously enjoying the joke. The joke that’s on him.
“You have to know where the door is,” the Doctor replies. “An’ then how to see what’s really here once you’re inside.” One eyebrow quirks. “Didn’t wonder why you weren’t gettin’ overheated?”
“Endurance training,” he answers, voice clipped. Nice of them to let him in on the secret at last. What’s the Doctor expecting? That he’ll stalk off in a huff? “So, what? The planet’s psychic too? That’s why I couldn’t see it until you touched me?”
“Somethin’ like that.” The Doctor smirks. “Dunno how you humans manage with your inferior psychic abilities.”
Jack considers mentioning the years of intensive psychic training he had in the Agency, but decides against it. It’s obvious that the Doctor’s not going to be impressed by anything he says. He’s had one guess confirmed, at least: the Doctor is alien.
The Doctor drops his hand; of course, now that he’s adjusted to the planet’s reality, he doesn’t need that assistance any more. Rose, on the other hand... well, it’s not as if it isn’t obvious that she’s in a different category altogether where the Doctor’s concerned.
And she was in on this planet’s secret all along. Both of them conspiring to haze the new boy. Not that that’s any kind of a new experience for him - or as if he’s planning to stick around for the long term anyway.
He plasters a careless smile on his face. “So, Doctor, gonna show us all the best places to have a good time? And I mean a good time,” he adds, leering for emphasis.
The Doctor glares. “You’re here to see some culture. Whole universe out there, full of art an’ history an’ architecture an’ landscape, an’ blokes like you just want fun an’ games. You don’t know what you’re missin’.”
And wouldn’t it surprise the Doctor to know that Jack came top in every History and Culture course he ever took. He stays silent, though, and allows the man to show them around.
The Doctor’s good; if he ever found himself stranded without that amazing ship of his, he’d be able to make a living as a tour guide. But after half an hour or so Jack’s starting to tune out. Amusing as this is, he’s got some decisions to make - most importantly, what his next move is.
Okay, so his last con was almost a disaster, and the only reason it wasn’t is that the Doctor stepped in. Is that enough to turn him off the con-game permanently, or is today’s distaste just a phase he’s going through? And if he gives up that business, what’s he going to do instead? Sure, there seems to be an invitation to stick around with Flag Girl and U-Boat Captain, but how long for? And is it going to continue like this, with the two of them rubbing their coupledom in his face and the Doctor treating him like some sort of unreliable lightweight?
Better to have at least a contingency-
His wrist computer vibrates. He stiffens. That’s a very specific frequency, used only by Time Agents. And the message spelt out by the pattern of the vibration is one he knows well: Agent requesting immediate assistance.
He’d ignore it - and for good reasons - but for one thing. The message was sent to his computer. And he’s been off the Agency channel ever since he resigned. This is someone who wants to contact him.
Could be a trap; of course it could. But it could be an opportunity.
“Gotta take a leak, guys. Catch up with you in a bit.” He pats the Doctor on the shoulder - it’ll irritate the Doctor, but it amuses him, and after the Doctor’s trick with the mirage he deserves a bit of payback - and, with a grin and a wave, jogs off around the nearest corner.
Immediately, the grin disappears from his face and, all business, he presses the communication button on his computer. “Responding.”
There’s a brief flash of light, and then standing next to him is someone he never wanted to see again in this lifetime. “Hart.” He stares the man down from the advantage of his greater height. “Thought you’d have had enough of me after that time-loop.”
Hart blows him a kiss. “You mean you didn’t miss me? I’m hurt. And after I went to all this trouble to track you down, too. You’re a hard man to find, Jack Harkness - that is what you’re calling yourself these days, isn’t it?”
Yes, and how did the guy find him? Well, by tracing his Vortex manipulator, of course. But why now?
“Save it.” He almost snaps the words. “You didn’t summon me to flirt for old times’ sake. What do you want?”
Hart smiles, that knowing grin that always made him want to punch the guy’s face in. “It’s more a question of what I can do for you, lover boy.”
“What could you possibly do that I’d be remotely interested in?” His finger’s over the button on his computer, ready to teleport him away. He’s never trusted Hart even as far as he could throw the guy, and that judgement’s stood him in good stead more than once.
“I can give you something.” Hart’s tone is lazy, with an undertone of sensuality. Jack can feel himself recoiling. “Something you want very badly, my friend.” He pauses, deliberately dramatic. Jack rolls his eyes. “Your memories.”
His body goes rigid, and he lets his wrist fall. “Don’t mess with me. You’ll regret it.”
“No messing. I’m authorised by the Time Agency to offer you your memories back. In return for one small favour.”
“Oh, yeah.” He lets cynicism lace his voice. “Here it comes. Setting me up for failure, yeah? That’d be your style all right.”
Hart smiles. “Not at all. That’s the beauty of it, Jack. It’s something you can easily deliver on, right here and now.”
“I’m not even going to begin to guess.” Not taking his eyes off Hart, he adds, “Go on, then. Amaze me.”
“All you have to do,” Hart says, deliberately spinning out the words, “is give us your friend in black leather. The guy you’re travelling with.”
The Doctor? He just about manages to school his reaction. “What does the Agency want with him?”
Hart shrugs. “Who knows? And why should you care, anyway? Who’s he to you? The latest lay?” Hart’s smile turns into a smirk. “We both know you’d sell your own grandmother to get those memories back. And here you can have them for a fraction of the price.”
Slowly, he says, “Sounds like a bargain. Where do you want him? And what’s the deadline?”
“Deadline?” Hart’s eyes widen theatrically. “He’s right here in this town with you. You mean to say you actually need time to persuade him to sneak into a back alley? You must be losing your touch.”
Jack shrugs. “You saw the blonde with him? She’s the clingy type. Ultra-clingy. And you do not want to have to deal with her as well, trust me.”
Hart holds his gaze for several seconds. “One hour, that’s all you’re getting. Then the offer expires. Permanently.”
He nods, just once. “One hour. And no games, Hart. You better have my memories here with you. Straight swap, or no deal.”
Before Hart can reply, he turns on his heel and walks back out to the main street to find the Doctor.
***
tbc in Chapter 2: Feint
Author: wmr / wendymr
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Jack Harkness, Captain John Hart (cameo)
Rated: PG
Summary: Is there anything you wouldn't give for the one thing you want more than anything else in the universe?
Written for kholly, who bid on a fixed-price fic from me in the September Support Stacie Auction. It's turned out to be a little longer than the promised fic, but I hope she won't mind that! With very many thanks to yamx for BRing.
Doctor Faustus Dances
Chapter 1: Dos-à-Dos
The man currently calling himself Jack Harkness blinks out of sight, and in the shadow of the fence another man checks his Vortex manipulator. As he guessed, Harkness returning to his ship like the coward he is.
And, as the Agency suspected, yet another hoax. Just as well he followed the ‘watch and see’ protocol.
About to disappear himself - why stick around and get blown up by a primitive bomb centuries before he was even born? - the Time Agent hesitates, his attention caught by the man in black, the one who exposed Harkness’s idiocy. Who is he? What is he?
A quick scan using the computer attached to his Vortex manipulator leaves Captain John Hart completely dumbfounded.
It can’t be. A glitch in the scanner, or some sort of body-mod. It’s just not possible that this means what it seems to imply. So the man - or whatever he is - has two hearts. It means nothing, right?
But Hart stays, watching the man in black, not taking his eyes off him even when Harkness comes back, riding the bomb like he’s some sort of cowboy hero. Harkness will turn up again, like the bad penny he is, with some other con or game to get what he wants.
Instead, Hart watches, and later, he follows the man and his little blonde companion away from the newly-healed crowds and down the dark cobbled streets, until the two of them stop in front of a blue police-box.
Seconds after they go inside, there’s a roaring sound, the box starts to fade, and then it disappears. Nothing’s left except...
Traces of artron energy. And huon energy - something that’s not even supposed to exist.
Shit. The guy really is a Time Lord. Alive, and in the flesh.
And won’t the Time Agency be interested in that?
***
“Last one out does the washing-up tonight!” Rose calls as she runs towards the door. Jack follows behind at his own pace. The threat of washing up doesn’t faze him in the slightest; after all, it’s hardly as if he’ll be here later to get stuck with it.
The Doctor elbows him aside, edging through the door ahead of him. “Dishes are all yours, slowcoach.”
Jack blinks. The Doctor’s assuming he’ll still be here? After the lecture he got last night, once Rose had gone to bed, that’s the last thing he would’ve assumed. The Doctor - whoever or whatever he is; he didn’t grant Jack the courtesy of an explanation - ripped into him, up one side and down the other, about the dangers of interfering with history, messing with technology he doesn’t understand and almost wiping out the human race. As if he wasn’t already well aware of how badly he’d screwed up.
Though the Doctor’s final comment, just before he sent Jack off to bed, might have revealed more than his host intended. And you can stop your idiot flirting, especially around Rose. She’s not interested.
Right. Rose seemed more than interested when he was dancing with her on top of his ship yesterday - and again when he was listening to the two of them over om-com. And that, he’d guess, is the Doctor’s real problem - and the reason he didn’t expect to be staying on board this amazing, unbelievable ship that’s like something out of a fairy-tale. Bigger on the inside - now, that’s technology he didn’t think any race had mastered.
So it looks like he’s invited to stick around for a bit. Considering his other options have pretty much been reduced to hitchhiking, sleeping rough or conning his way to a berth on another ship while still trying to stay one step ahead of the Agency until he’s found something else they’d consider valuable, it’s not an offer he’s going to refuse. Plus his bed is comfortable, and his shipmates are pretty easy on the eye. Not a bad deal, all in all.
Outside, he shields his eyes against the bright orange sun and scans the landscape. It’s desert-like, with tall, thin brown trees dotting the horizon. Not a planet he’s familiar with, so it’s not Earth or anywhere in the Solar System. Probably not even in the same galaxy, at a guess, which tells him that the Doctor’s ship is fast.
“Well, come on then!” the Doctor exclaims, striding forward. “Can’t hang around here all day. Brand-new planet to explore!”
Rose, grinning excitedly, slides her hand into the Doctor’s as if it’s something she does all the time. No doubt it is. “Where are we, anyway? Normally you can’t wait to tell me.”
The Doctor glances back, and Jack feels those unsettling blue-grey eyes on him again. “Thought we’d see if Captain Jack wants to do the honours this time.”
Ah, now he sees the Doctor’s game. Expose the new guy’s ignorance and establish himself firmly as the alpha male. But it’s not gonna work. Jack might be prone to the odd piece of bad judgement - like that Chula ambulance - but he’s not completely stupid. The Doctor’s still a huge unknown quantity, but what is clear is that he’s some kind of genius.
So he smiles, giving a careless shrug. “Nope, haven’t got a clue. Looks like you’re the official tour guide, Doctor.”
The Doctor looks smugly pleased with himself. “Small planet in the Omega cluster. ‘S called Mirage.”
“Strange name for a planet,” Rose comments, swinging the Doctor’s hand as they walk together out into the desert - without, Jack notices, any sign of supplies of water, or any warning from the Doctor to Rose to use sunblock. He’s fine; by his century, scientists have developed a cellular force-field available over the counter to anyone but, if he remembers his history of human development correctly, in Rose’s century people could still suffer pretty badly from prolonged exposure to a sun.
“You’ll see,” is all the Doctor says in return to Rose, as Jack falls into step behind the two of them. The man bends his head and speaks quietly to her. Jack can’t hear a word, but he just shrugs. They’re perfectly entitled to exclude him from their conversation if they want.
By the time they’ve walked for about fifteen minutes, Jack’s starting to get concerned. Oh, he’s fine himself; he’s done introductory endurance training that makes this look like a walk in the park, but his assessment of Rose so far is that she’s a civilian who’s never had any kind of military training. While she might be used to accompanying the Doctor all over the place, she’s just an ordinary human who’s likely to get sunstroke if they’re out much longer.
Though, strangely, she seems perfectly fine, showing no signs of thirst or heat exhaustion. Weird.
The Doctor glances back abruptly. “Take my hand.” His spare hand is suddenly thrust back. Jack blinks, but takes it.
Instantly, the desert disappears. They’re in a town, buildings and vehicles and people - humanoid, but with subtle differences, such as the shape of their necks and a lack of eyebrows - all around. “What-?” he manages to choke out.
The Doctor grins. “ ‘S why it’s called Mirage. We were only in the desert for about five minutes.”
“Why couldn’t I see it, then?” he asks, frowning, his gaze taking in Rose as well. She’s grinning, obviously enjoying the joke. The joke that’s on him.
“You have to know where the door is,” the Doctor replies. “An’ then how to see what’s really here once you’re inside.” One eyebrow quirks. “Didn’t wonder why you weren’t gettin’ overheated?”
“Endurance training,” he answers, voice clipped. Nice of them to let him in on the secret at last. What’s the Doctor expecting? That he’ll stalk off in a huff? “So, what? The planet’s psychic too? That’s why I couldn’t see it until you touched me?”
“Somethin’ like that.” The Doctor smirks. “Dunno how you humans manage with your inferior psychic abilities.”
Jack considers mentioning the years of intensive psychic training he had in the Agency, but decides against it. It’s obvious that the Doctor’s not going to be impressed by anything he says. He’s had one guess confirmed, at least: the Doctor is alien.
The Doctor drops his hand; of course, now that he’s adjusted to the planet’s reality, he doesn’t need that assistance any more. Rose, on the other hand... well, it’s not as if it isn’t obvious that she’s in a different category altogether where the Doctor’s concerned.
And she was in on this planet’s secret all along. Both of them conspiring to haze the new boy. Not that that’s any kind of a new experience for him - or as if he’s planning to stick around for the long term anyway.
He plasters a careless smile on his face. “So, Doctor, gonna show us all the best places to have a good time? And I mean a good time,” he adds, leering for emphasis.
The Doctor glares. “You’re here to see some culture. Whole universe out there, full of art an’ history an’ architecture an’ landscape, an’ blokes like you just want fun an’ games. You don’t know what you’re missin’.”
And wouldn’t it surprise the Doctor to know that Jack came top in every History and Culture course he ever took. He stays silent, though, and allows the man to show them around.
The Doctor’s good; if he ever found himself stranded without that amazing ship of his, he’d be able to make a living as a tour guide. But after half an hour or so Jack’s starting to tune out. Amusing as this is, he’s got some decisions to make - most importantly, what his next move is.
Okay, so his last con was almost a disaster, and the only reason it wasn’t is that the Doctor stepped in. Is that enough to turn him off the con-game permanently, or is today’s distaste just a phase he’s going through? And if he gives up that business, what’s he going to do instead? Sure, there seems to be an invitation to stick around with Flag Girl and U-Boat Captain, but how long for? And is it going to continue like this, with the two of them rubbing their coupledom in his face and the Doctor treating him like some sort of unreliable lightweight?
Better to have at least a contingency-
His wrist computer vibrates. He stiffens. That’s a very specific frequency, used only by Time Agents. And the message spelt out by the pattern of the vibration is one he knows well: Agent requesting immediate assistance.
He’d ignore it - and for good reasons - but for one thing. The message was sent to his computer. And he’s been off the Agency channel ever since he resigned. This is someone who wants to contact him.
Could be a trap; of course it could. But it could be an opportunity.
“Gotta take a leak, guys. Catch up with you in a bit.” He pats the Doctor on the shoulder - it’ll irritate the Doctor, but it amuses him, and after the Doctor’s trick with the mirage he deserves a bit of payback - and, with a grin and a wave, jogs off around the nearest corner.
Immediately, the grin disappears from his face and, all business, he presses the communication button on his computer. “Responding.”
There’s a brief flash of light, and then standing next to him is someone he never wanted to see again in this lifetime. “Hart.” He stares the man down from the advantage of his greater height. “Thought you’d have had enough of me after that time-loop.”
Hart blows him a kiss. “You mean you didn’t miss me? I’m hurt. And after I went to all this trouble to track you down, too. You’re a hard man to find, Jack Harkness - that is what you’re calling yourself these days, isn’t it?”
Yes, and how did the guy find him? Well, by tracing his Vortex manipulator, of course. But why now?
“Save it.” He almost snaps the words. “You didn’t summon me to flirt for old times’ sake. What do you want?”
Hart smiles, that knowing grin that always made him want to punch the guy’s face in. “It’s more a question of what I can do for you, lover boy.”
“What could you possibly do that I’d be remotely interested in?” His finger’s over the button on his computer, ready to teleport him away. He’s never trusted Hart even as far as he could throw the guy, and that judgement’s stood him in good stead more than once.
“I can give you something.” Hart’s tone is lazy, with an undertone of sensuality. Jack can feel himself recoiling. “Something you want very badly, my friend.” He pauses, deliberately dramatic. Jack rolls his eyes. “Your memories.”
His body goes rigid, and he lets his wrist fall. “Don’t mess with me. You’ll regret it.”
“No messing. I’m authorised by the Time Agency to offer you your memories back. In return for one small favour.”
“Oh, yeah.” He lets cynicism lace his voice. “Here it comes. Setting me up for failure, yeah? That’d be your style all right.”
Hart smiles. “Not at all. That’s the beauty of it, Jack. It’s something you can easily deliver on, right here and now.”
“I’m not even going to begin to guess.” Not taking his eyes off Hart, he adds, “Go on, then. Amaze me.”
“All you have to do,” Hart says, deliberately spinning out the words, “is give us your friend in black leather. The guy you’re travelling with.”
The Doctor? He just about manages to school his reaction. “What does the Agency want with him?”
Hart shrugs. “Who knows? And why should you care, anyway? Who’s he to you? The latest lay?” Hart’s smile turns into a smirk. “We both know you’d sell your own grandmother to get those memories back. And here you can have them for a fraction of the price.”
Slowly, he says, “Sounds like a bargain. Where do you want him? And what’s the deadline?”
“Deadline?” Hart’s eyes widen theatrically. “He’s right here in this town with you. You mean to say you actually need time to persuade him to sneak into a back alley? You must be losing your touch.”
Jack shrugs. “You saw the blonde with him? She’s the clingy type. Ultra-clingy. And you do not want to have to deal with her as well, trust me.”
Hart holds his gaze for several seconds. “One hour, that’s all you’re getting. Then the offer expires. Permanently.”
He nods, just once. “One hour. And no games, Hart. You better have my memories here with you. Straight swap, or no deal.”
Before Hart can reply, he turns on his heel and walks back out to the main street to find the Doctor.
***
tbc in Chapter 2: Feint